Safe Haven
by niblettk
Summary: Santana's parents find out about her and Brittany, but Brittany is on vacation and she goes to the only place she feels like she might be safe: Kurt's.
1. Safe Haven

They found her diary. Her stupid diary that she knows was a mistake to keep, but still: her mother read her diary.

How much of an invasion of privacy is that! Santana kicks the sidewalk angrily, pulling her arms around herself to shelter herself from the cold. At least Quinn got to pack things. Santana is out on her ass with no way of contacting Brittany–he dad knocked her cell phone out of her hand before she fled–and no spare change of clothes.

It's not like it's raining, but a cold wind has picked up and Santana's wearing nothing but her thin sleeping shirt–one that Puck left at her house–and a pair of dark jeans. She feels tears spilling down her cheeks and wipes them away, furious. She's Santana Lopez, she fights tears; but this is worse than Vocal Adrenaline vandalizing their choir room or showing up in _their _auditorium, and it's worse than Sue Sylvester cancelling Cheerio's practice for a week straight.

Her parents called her a freak; an abomination. Her mom had laughed when she'd pleaded, begged her to reconsider, and then her dad had lifted his hand and come at her, so she'd fled. It's total bullshit, and Santana bends to pick up a rock and hurls it; she hears a window break and is in a sprint before she knows she's decided to run.

She runs until she's at Brittany's, and then she sits against the door and bangs her head against it; she knows it's no use, because Brittany's gone on vacation and her parents don't like Santana anyway. She falls asleep, slumped against the side of the house, and when she wakes it's to a car backfiring near ten in the evening.

She sighs; drops her head onto her knees.

She knows what her only option is–she has no friends so who else is there, really?–so she stands, rubbing the bruise that's forming on her wrist from where her dad dragged her down the stairs. She knows vaguely where Kurt's house is, so she wanders around the neighbourhood until she spots his Navigator in the driveway.

It's nearly ten thirty now, and it's one thing to show up at somebody's house unannounced, but she's hardly friends with Kurt and it's late; the lights on in the living room signal that somebody is awake, and it's such a relief she feels tears pricking her tired eyes again.

She stands outside for a long time, watching the television light flicker in the window. When the lights go out, she panics, sprinting up the walk and hammering on the door before she has time to think about it.

Kurt's dad opens the door; he looks like a typical dad, kind of like hers, except he's bald and his eyes are pale and friendly, like Kurt's.

She stammers; she has no idea what to say, and she barely manages an "Uh, hi..." before she's crying much too hard to speak, let alone coherently. She screws her eyes shut and her hair falls forward as she cries, and then a strong arm is wrapping around her shoulder and pulling her into the house.

His body is sure, guiding her to the table and wrapping a blanket around her, but his voice is uncertain, worried, "Alright, sweetheart, you just stay here, okay?" She can't even nod, she just wraps her arms around herself, tugging the blanket tighter, and he nods to himself, patting her on the shoulder, "I'm going to go get Kurt."

She remains unaware of what's happening around her.

She hears somebody making tea behind her and a woman's voice says, "Here you go," and for a minute, she's confused because she's pretty sure Kurt's mom is dead, and then she remembers: Finn and his mom are living with the Hummels now.

Somebody sits next to him and Kurt's quiet voice cuts through her hitching breaths–she hasn't cried this hard since she was twelve–and a tentative hand rests on her upper arm, "Santana, what's wrong?"

She's thankful that he doesn't ask if everything's alright, because no, nothing is ever going to be okay again, "My parents kicked me out."

Somebody gasps–she's positive it's Finn's mom–and then Kurt rubs her arm a little, "Why would–what happened?"

"They hate me." She turns her head, blinking up at him finally, and his eyes widen a tiny bit in surprise; she's sure she looks like a mess. She takes a breath and manages to get it out, "They found out about me and Brittany and kicked me out."

Kurt glances over her head at his dad, whose hand lands on her shoulder heavily, "You can stay as long as you like." She turns to look at him and he glances out of the kitchen and through the living room, "I didn't see any bags, did you–"

She shakes her head loosely, "No, I didn't have time to pack anything." She turns back to Kurt, "I'm sorry to do this to you, but Brittany's on vacation and I didn't know where else–"

Kurt cuts her off with a squeeze on her arm and a soft, genuine smile, "Don't worry about it. She can stay in my room?"

Santana blinks, confused, but his Dad murmurs an agreement and she realizes he was asking his dad and not her, "Where do you live, uh–Santana?" She watches Kurt mouth her name at his dad vacantly, not replying; when Kurt slides a piece of paper in front of her, she takes the offered pencil and writes down her address, but she's not entirely sure why. Are they going to take her home? Is he going to go and try to get some clothes for her?

"I'll be back in an hour or so." Kurt's dad stands and leaves the room, quickly followed by his girlfriend, and Santana sips her tea with Kurt sitting beside her and together, they eavesdrop on the short, whispered conversation.

"I know it's wrong, Burt, but what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. I'm not going to try and convince them to take her back. They don't deserve her for what they did. Did you see the bruise on her wrist?"

Kurt reaches for her arm and she lets him look; his fingers press gently against the purple skin and she winces.

"Burt, honey, don't do anything stupid."

"It's not stupid, I'm just going to go scream at her parents for a little while and pack up her stuff." Kurt snorts softly, and she assumes this crazy papa-bear protectiveness is something he's seen often. Too often, considering the amount of crap he gets at school.

"And she's just going to stay here?" Carole sighs and the door closes, leaving her question apparently unanswered, and then she mumbles to herself, "I'm just collecting kids now, aren't I?" She comes back into the kitchen and smiles gently at Santana, who has finished crying and is wiping at her face with a cloth that Kurt retrieved from the sink.

She peaks into the cup on the table and plucks it off, emptying the cold liquid into the sink, "Would you like some more tea, sweetie?"

"Sure. Thanks, Mrs. Hudson."

The teacup clinks against the table, "Call me Carole. And the big scary man you just met is Burt."

Carole turns around and starts bustling around behind them, washing dishes in the sink, and Santana peeks up at Kurt, "Burt and Kurt?"

"Shut up," but he's smiling, and his hand has somehow slipped through hers and she figures she doesn't have to mind unless he tells somebody at school. They turn to look as Finn pads into the kitchen, looking sleepy and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Mom, what's going on?" Finn looks at Kurt, "What's Santana doing here?"

Santana fights the sob that chokes her throat and Kurt answers for her, "Her parents kicked her out, Finn." He looks confused; she doesn't blame him, "Cause of her and Brittany?" Finn still looks confused for the most part, but Finn always looks confused; his look clears a tiny bit and he nods, smiling awkwardly at Santana.

They end up putting a movie on. Santana curls into Kurt's side on a loveseat and Finn sprawls out on the sofa, snoring loudly.

Burt comes back near the end of it, missing a hat and sporting a bloody nose. Nobody says anything as he hauls in three suitcases; they're not Santana's, but she supposes he kept them in the garage and took them with him when he went.

He disappears up the stairs and Santana tilts her head up to look at Kurt, "I finally understand why you're not scared of anything." Kurt laughs, a high tinkling sound, and hugs her to him, and she mumbles into his chest, "Thanks, Kurt. This means a lot."

"I know." She wonders where he would've gone if his dad had turned out like hers, and then she shakes her head, somehow unable to picture Kurt with anything but this awesome, protective beast of a father.

* * *

_Reviews are love._


	2. Home

Living with Kurt is, surprisingly, kind of awesome.

He has a secret obsession with horror movies and whenever they're both home they stay up watching movies together and talking about boys. She stops sleeping around, mainly because it's hard to bring boys back to her place now, but also because she has a long, half-asleep conversation with Kurt about why she does it: a combination of an uncle who abused her as a child and a long list of insecurities that Kurt seems to think are entirely unfounded.

Finn is annoying, but they deal with it together, joining forces against their "big brother who's actually younger than both of them" and continuously prank him–they booby-trap their bedroom so he can't get revenge while both of them are out–by saran-wrapping the toilet, which Santana has to do on her own because Kurt is strongly against it, and they take all the screws out of his kitchen chair and he falls down in front of Rachel, who tries valiantly not to laugh.

Burt and Carole, meanwhile, are the best parents anybody could have asked for. She thinks it might've been fair for Finn to have the best, most supportive mom in Lima and for Kurt to have Burt, but it's kind of ridiculously unfair that now they've combined to create this incredible parental force. She misses her own parents, which is stupid, because they're terrible people who threatened to cause her physical pain when they found out she was a lesbian–she's bisexual, but all that matters to them is she's not hetero.

It's home now, that's the thing.

She has to tell Coach Sylvester during Cheerio's practice which, yeah, was mortifying, but Kurt dropped that girl Samantha during a lift because she called Santana a dyke and for some reason that made it her feel better. They went out bowling afterwards, with Quinn and Mercedes, and while Kurt and Mercedes were goofing around and begging the manager not to kick them out for throwing three balls down the lane at once, Quinn turned towards her.

"How are you?"

Santana turns her nose up simply because she doesn't know what else to do, "Fine."

"That's a lie," Quinn keeps her gaze steady on Santana, "I've moved back in with my mom and I'm still not 'fine' with what happened."

"Okay, so what–am I supposed to be all torn up cause my asshole parents decided they don't want a dyke living under their roof?" Quinn quirks her stupid eyebrow and Santana huffs, twisting her head and crossing her arms, "Whatever, Quinnie. I really am fine because unlike you, I had somewhere awesome to go."

"I stayed with Finn and his mom before Puck and the bacon-hater."

"Yeah, but I'm not lying to Kurt or Finn about carrying their baby." Quinn winces, but Santana doesn't care because Quinn should _know _by now that Santana doesn't do the "talk about feelings" thing, "Look, Quinn, I know you've pulled a Grinch or whatever and you think you understand, but Kurt's enough."

She watches Kurt bat his eyes up at the manager, who looks at him with surprise and backs off, and then she has to struggle to keep the smile off her face. She darts a quick glance at Quinn, who's smiling at Kurt and Mercedes as well, not paying attention to Santana, "I know. I don't know how we lucked out with such great friends, considering how mean we used to be."

Santana snorts, "I'm still a bitch."

"That's not something to be proud of, you know." Quinn gets up, doing some weird finger-wiggle thing with Mercedes as they pass each other, and Kurt flounces over and flings himself in the chair next to Santana.

"I'm starving. Can we go for lunch after this?" Two things Santana has learned about Kurt: he works hard for his cash and is more than willing to spend it on his friends, and he has the fastest metabolism she's ever seen.

Santana glances up at the scoreboard and realizes with faint alarm that she's been enjoying herself enough that it's the tenth turn and she's barely noticed the time sliding past; she needs to work on maintain her bored, distant exterior.

* * *

"This is my home now. How weird is that?"

Puck makes a weird noise in the back of his throat; he's going through the drawers at Kurt's vanity, rolling things around haphazardly and in general just making a mess. Santana knows Kurt will notice and she's not even going to pretend she doesn't want to see his revenge.

"Doesn't Hummel have anything embarrassing?"

"I don't know." She turns her head slightly for a moment and then twists back to the television, sneaking behind an Aztec ruin or whatever and snapping a bad guy's neck, "If he does, I haven't seen it."

They're both quiet for a while. Puck grunts every now and then and she hears him switch drawers, but she's too focused on whatever game she and Kurt rented the other day, "You know, he's going to kill you when he finds out you went through his things." A callused hand comes down over her eyes and she moves her whole body sideways, "Hey, watch it!"

"He's not going to find out, though, is he?"

Santana laughs and she sees Puck shoot her a wary look as she stations herself behind a machine gun and starts mowing down enemies, "Did you put everything back where you found it?" Puck doesn't say anything, so she snorts, "He'll totally know, you tard, and there's no way I'm taking the fall for you."

"That's cruel, San." The game transfers into a cut scene and the saving button appears in the corner. She waits until it disappears and turns off the system, turning to Puck and reaching up to twist her hair into a ponytail while his eyes drop to her chest, "Can we at least do it on his bed?"

"You think you're here to sleep with me?" Puck's smile drops off his face and she almost feels bad; he looks like a kicked puppy, "Honey, I'm a one-woman girl now, and Britt is home tomorrow. I think I can wait that long."

He sighs, defeated, and then spots the Wii, half-hidden behind and open cabinet door, "You guys have Mario Kart?" She rolls her eyes, but gets the controllers out anyway and switches the TV input over.

* * *

Santana isn't shy about saying that Kurt's place is her home now, but it doesn't really click for _her_ until the night Carole and Burt come home from date night and Carole has a shiny new ring on her finger.

Carole sits at the table with Kurt and Santana, who listen eagerly as she tells them the story–Burt hid it in the cake, because he's old-fashioned and dorky that way–while Finn and Burt lean against the counter and pretend they're not interested.

After the story, Carole sighs happily and Kurt smiles, scooting his chair forward, "So I can help you plan the wedding, right?" and even though Santana is not _that _girly that she's going to squeal and jump around in excitement, she is still a girl who wants a fairytale wedding, so she leans in as well.

Carole smiles at Kurt, patient and adoring, and she nods, "Of course you can." She looks to Santana, "And Santana, I know this is a lot to ask, but you can be my maid of honour, if you like." Santana brightens considerably, and then tones it down and casually nods, twirling her hair. Carole just laughs–she's come to expect Santana's reluctance to show extreme emotions.

Kurt twists around in his chair, pinning his dad with a demanding look and his dad holds up his hands, "Calm down, you get best man."

Kurt lifts his chin and shoots a look at Finn, who rolls his eyes when Kurt's back is turned. Carole glances toward her son, "Sorry, sweetheart, but I figured you wouldn't want to be maid of honour anyway." Finn blushes and Santana laughs, somewhat nervously, because _yeah_–she just stole Finn's mom, in a way.

Finn shrugs though, smiling easily at Santana because he's Finn and it's in his nature to forgive–or not to understand, but whatever–and punches Burt on the arm awkwardly, "I'm sure Burt has room for more groomsmen."

Soon enough, the conversation veers towards what they had for dinner while the parents were out, and as they settle down on the couch to watch some show they recorded for Burt, Santana fitting herself easily between Carole and Kurt, she realizes that she's not just saying this is home, because it suddenly just is.

* * *

_Reviews are love._


End file.
